Elyse Mady (6 page)

“And?”

“He had a propensity for dressing in women’s gowns.”

A shocked gasp escaped Hester’s throat. “Surely not!”

“He did.” Her friend’s face slackened with remembrance. “He had the most cunning quilted petticoat, all over lozenges, that he’d worked himself. I coveted that petticoat, but he wore it with a great deal more style than I ever could have, even as young as I was then. He was the loveliest thing I’d ever seen and I will admit to jealousy that he could claim such fine looks.”

Hester thought again of the young man her brother had pointed out to her in the prison. Of his lilac suit, so stained and torn. Amos, her brother had called him. “And what became of him?”

“In the end, he took the king’s shilling and fought in the uprisings in America,” Mrs. Hannaford said with a tone of mingled memorial and regret. “I heard he was killed there. Nearly thirty years ago now, but I still remember that petticoat. What a thing to remember. The mind is a strange, tangled business, is it not?”

“Robert isn’t like that.”

“It is not my place to say that he is or he isn’t, my dear. But it is my place to tell you that while he is incarcerated, you cannot stay under this roof alone.”

This time, the needle went deeper.

“You are asking me to leave?” Even as she wondered whether Mrs. Hannaford’s offer of supper had merely been a ruse to dull her suspicions, Hester shoved it aside as unworthy. “Why?”

“You are a young woman, whose brother, her sole protector, has been detained. It does not matter the reason for the arrest,” Mrs. Hannaford said, raising a hand to forestall Hester’s objections, “only that he is gone and you cannot continue to reside here alone and hope to retain your good name.”

“I will have you. You can vouch for my probity, my circumspect behaviour.”

“I would that you could, my dear, but no, I do not have the significance to protect you against aspersions and slights. You must ally yourself with someone whose conduct and rectitude cannot be doubted.”

For a moment, Thomas Ramsay’s face flashed before her eyes. Not marked by the final, angry expression she had seen this afternoon but the tender, compassionate one he had worn earlier when he’d held her in his arms. His conduct and rectitude could not be doubted. Any woman lucky enough to be under his protection would want for nothing.

Mrs. Hannaford’s next words pulled her from her mad folly. “Mr. Charlesworth and his wife will offer you room and board for the duration of your brother’s incarceration. With him, your character will be protected against those who would to stain it. I have spoken to him myself, and he will call tomorrow to discuss the arrangements with you.”

“The clergyman?” Hester was perplexed. “But why?”

“Why? Because it is the Christian thing to do.”

There was no doubt that Reverend Charlesworth fulfilled his duties as a member of the clergy with admirable zeal. He preached with great vigour, organized an enviable number of charitable undertakings and lived a wholly respectable life with his wife and their nine children. He had taken Robert under his wing upon the siblings’ first arrival and it was thanks in large part to his commendations that the shop had secured its clientele.

But despite this, Hester had never warmed to him, for his faith was rarely leavened by sympathy or understanding. Mr. Charlesworth never entertained doubts of either his own consequence or the rightness of his beliefs. If he knew of her past transgressions, for instance, Hester suspected he would condemn her outright as a slattern, unworthy of his notice or assistance.

Could she live with a man such as this? She felt uneasy at the prospect but seeing Mrs. Hannaford’s worried face, she did her best to disguise her reluctance.

“I have acted in your best interests, I am sure.”

How could Hester disappoint the only friend she had yet to discover today?

“It was very good of you to take so much trouble on my behalf. I will welcome Mr. Charlesworth’s excellent advice on the morrow.”

* * *

“I have seen your brother. He is as well as can be expected, considering his miserable circumstances. I have instructed him to do everything in his power not to mingle with the undesirable miscreants he finds himself immured with and to devote his time to prayer.”

Mr. Charlesworth pivoted and peered down at Hester, perched stiffly on a worn settee beside Mrs. Hannaford. The clergyman had arrived a few short moments ago and was now established in the widow’s parlour, giving full voice to his impromptu sermon.

“What of his person? Had he eaten? Did you bring with you a change of linens?” Hester enquired anxiously. “His own were in a pitiable state. I mean to visit him as soon as I may.”

“It is lamentable enough that your brother must be exposed. A young woman with any care for her own character must put from her mind completely the idea of visiting such a place in person. You would be better not to think of it.”

“Surely, a sister—”

“Your brother would agree with me, I am sure, in wanting what is best for you. Your objections, while understandable in light of a woman’s more weakly reined emotions, do not do you credit, Miss Aspinall. They are the height of folly.”

“What of his spirits?” Mrs. Hannaford interjected before Hester could further inflame the reverend.

“Tolerable,” he conceded. “It is an undoubted truth, which I impressed on your brother’s mind, that we never can be perfectly happy, in this world, or the next, ’til we have learnt submission to the will of God, and have renounced every evil inclination that would lead us out of the path in which He has commanded us to walk. If we have not sufficiently learnt this lesson in the school of mercy, we must be taught it by affliction.”

His long legs carried him across the parlour in three steps. He turned sharply and made the return trip with equal authority, declaiming in a voice better suited for a high pulpit than a sitting room. In his black ditto suit, his white collar a visible symbol of his profession, he put Hester in mind of a stork in search of fish. His head bobbed and dipped with every pronouncement and his eyes, when he fixed them upon her, were pale and alight with methodical intensity.

“I had hoped to secure his bail, Mr. Charlesworth,” Hester said, trying to subdue her incredulity. It was bad enough that the man presumed to forbid her visit her brother. That he would then argue that his arrest was a divine mercy was absurd. “Do you think the congregation might be persuaded to contribute the necessary funds?”

At the mention of money, the reverend’s face tightened. “The sum is considerable. And we are a poor church to advance such a prodigious amount.” He handed his empty teacup to Mrs. Hannaford.

“It is not so impossible, is it? If you were to speak on my brother’s behalf, I am certain that Mr. Boyer, Mr. Eaves and others would be only too happy to assist him against these infamous and unjust charges.”

Charlesworth’s lips pursed. He sat down on one of Mrs. Hannaford’s embroidered seats and flicked a long finger against a blemish marring his vestments. “Although I am sympathetic to your brother’s plight and your own precarious situation, I do not think it appropriate for me to intervene on his behalf.” He leaned forward and collected his replenished teacup. He sipped it judiciously. “Perhaps a little more cream?”

“Of course.” Mrs. Hannaford hastened across the small space with the pitcher. “And could I tempt you with another biscuit?” She offered up the plate of sugar cookies and the reverend, after a coy pause, consented.

Hester tried not to let her impatience lead her astray, but she found such pleasantries doubly vexing when they only served to divert from the matter they had all come together to discuss. Swallowing back her anger, she tried to appeal to the man’s importance. “While we are both indebted to you for your spiritual guidance and could think of no one better able to help discern God’s hand in this calamity, I had understood from Mrs. Hannaford that you were to assist us more materially. Is not that what you related to her yesterday?”

The reverend continued to consume his tea but his eyes and demeanour hardened a little at Hester’s challenge, clearly seeing through her awkward flattery. “Your understanding is incorrect.”

“Indeed? In what manner did our understanding fail?” Her sharp tone raised another disapproving glance but she did not look away. It was Charlesworth who turned away first, and she felt a grim elation at her tiny victory.

“As a member of the weaker sex, you are to be pitied in this matter, which is why I extend this branch to you. I cannot help procure your brother’s release but during his incarceration, you will be permitted to live in my home,” he offered. “In helping my wife with her duties, in abasing yourself serving the worthiest of the poor and banishing all notions of personal self-importance, you may yet remained unscathed by your brother’s downfall. But impertinence will only hinder your cause.”

“I must abase myself?” Hester’s pride recoiled at the subservient role Charlesworth painted for her. She had seen his wife, a meek shadow of a thing sitting in the family pew, perpetually increasing, who seemed to exist only for the convenience of her domineering husband and his prospects of an advancing career. Hester could not bear such a restricted life.

Her character might be well lost if she struck out on her own, but her dignity was equally important to her. Regardless of the outcome, she could not live with the Charlesworths. He was only making the offer because he doubtless saw the opportunity of securing an unpaid servant for his troubles.

“There, my dear. Only see how kind the reverend is.” Mrs. Hannaford nodded and smiled, urging Hester to accede to the situation.

“I am afraid I cannot accept, sir.”

“What? Do not be so foolish. You are in no position to dictate the terms by which a charitable hand is outstretched,” he said. “And you may yet do much good, and in doing so, mitigate against your brother’s disgrace to some small degree.”

“His ‘disgrace,’ as you term it, is not of his own making. Is he not one of your flock in need of care? Why do you forsake him?”

“I do not forsake your brother, madam. He has forsaken me.” Charlesworth flung the words at her, his thin, pale face flushed with righteous indignation.

This self-interested claim infuriated Hester. Mrs. Hannaford laid a warning hand against her wrist, but Hester shook it off to stand and face Mr. Charlesworth.

“You are not detained at His Majesty’s pleasure.”

“I have lavished my attention and care on your brother and he has shown himself unworthy of my approbation. It is not enough that he is innocent. He has been arrested on the most revolting of charges, charges that have made him and all those known to associate with him notorious. I have recommended him to many and given him the credit of my friendship, the damage of which I shall not easily overcome.”

“I understand you perfectly, sir. You are a man who would cultivate an acquaintance when he is useful to you, but who cast him aside at the first sign of distress.” She stood, her hands clenched against the folds of her skirt. She would not let a man such as this see her tumult. She would not give him that satisfaction. “I will make arrangements for my brother’s release on my own. I would not dream of imposing myself on your family, thereby saving those innocents from the pollution which you so clearly fear.”

Mrs. Hannaford was distraught and tried to halt her departure. “Hester, think. If you do not accept, you will be without recourse. Reflect a moment. Reflect.” Behind her spectacles, her friend’s eyes were terrified and uncertain. Knowing she was the cause of her hurt gave Hester a moment of true regret, but she could see no other course open to her.

“I am sorry to cause you any distress, Mrs. Hannaford, but my conscience forbids it.”

“Please, Hester.”

“Let her to her ruin.” Charlesworth sneered. “She is clearly of the same disposition as her brother and unworthy of the notice of respectable individuals such as yourself and I.”

“I will not bid you good-day, Mr. Charlesworth,” Hester said. She went to the door. Mrs. Hannaford was trembling. “I will write to you when I am secured of new lodgings, ma’am.”

She stepped through the door. As soon as it shut behind her, she could hear the reverend, his strident voice raised, but she paid him no mind. Instead, she made her way up to her rooms. She stood in the parlour, taking in the comfortable space she had made for her brother and herself, trying to restrain the chaos of her thoughts.

She could not allow herself the luxury of panic. Her brother depended on her. She must consider her next course carefully. The family’s savings must be marshalled, so that they might stretch as far as possible. She could not, in good conscience, pay for new room and board when her brother was suffering such dreadful tribulations within the prison walls. Every ha’penny must be squeezed. She would have to take a look at the accounts and see what was owed them. They were kept at the shop and—

The shop.

The idea was so obvious she wanted to scold herself for not thinking of it earlier.

She would take refuge in the shop. The rents on it were paid quarterly and she knew that Mr. Ramsay’s agent had collected monies sufficient to the end of the quarter. The shop had a small room. It was plain but perhaps if she were there, working, she and the apprentices might be able to keep some little flow of money coming in. Enough to, if not safeguard their savings completely, slow its depletion and allow Hester to pay for both improved quarters
and
a lawyer for Robert’s defence.

She had worked behind the counter often enough. She could mark a paper tape as well as the next to take a man’s measurements, and Jeremy and Samuel could cut and sew. Their output would suffer, and she was sure they would lose some of their customers once news of her brother’s disgrace circulated. But still, it was a plan, something which, until moments ago, she had not had.

She would pack only what she could carry now and send notes to the apprentices, telling them of her determination to reopen the shop tomorrow.

Feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, Hester set to work.